Back From the Igloo
by ScarletStripe
Summary: Agent Meyers comes back from Antarctica to settle a view scores. Hellboy/Myers and some Hellboy/Liz. Slash if you didn't know. Set after the ending of Golden Army. Sorry for the stupid title and... bad summary.
1. Chapter 1

**Grahhh. I haven't written in so long, I'm not sure I'll still be any good, but I had a sudden urge to write again. I'm starting this fic up right now, and I'm all hopped up on Coke, so please excuse any typos or anything. **

_Disclaimer: _I do not own any characters, references, or locations described in this piece, nor do I receive any monetary profit from its creation.

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"Quit?! What do you mean, 'Quit'?!"

On the other end of the phone, a rather startled fledgling agent stuttered into the reciever. "I... I uh... I'm not sure myself, sir, uh... w-would you like me to redirect you to another branch, I-I'm sure they could-"

"No, I do not want to be redirected! I want to know where the hell that giant ape ran off to!"

"Um... s-sir," the agent stammered. "I-I... I believe that information's c-classified."

"Classified my butt!" (He still couldn't bring himself to swear, even in his elevated state of agitation). "Now you listen to me, sir. If I have to ask you one more time, I will have you demoted to... to... prisoner containment!"

He didn't need to see the agent to know that he'd turned pale with horror.

"Well?!"

"G-G-Giants Causeway! Ireland! That was his last known location! Bye!", the agent blurted before slamming the receiver down violently onto it's holster. He flicked a sweat-sodden lock from his forehead as he righted the office-phone's position so that it sat flush in the ceramic plastic grooves. He prayed to god, or whatever he could still believe in after working for the BPRD, that that wouldn't come back to haunt him.

On the other side of the globe, a very very angry Agent Myers stood with arms crossed. Now he wasn't the type of person who just flew off the handle for nothing, but he was beyond pissed. Gripping his hands into fists, he stomped out of his quarters towards the hangar. Hellboy had better watch out, because he was coming.

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"Oh, c'mon Liz!"

With a swish of her hair, she passed by Hellboy. She rummaged through her drawer for a pen and paper. The pen was hastily unsheated before she violently scribbled a brief message. Crumpling the paper in her fist, Liz set it on fire and hurled it at Hellboy's forehead.

The smoldering peice of paper laid there for a second before he picked it up with his flesh hand.

It read, "Fuck you".

"Funny, Liz," H.B. snorted sarcastically. "Now can you please just calm down?"

"Calm down?", she mumbled at an almost inaudible volume. "I... I can't believe you, Red!"

He shielded his face from the heat wave that rolled off of her. "What's not to believe?", he said, half seriously. Honestly, he had no idea what he did.

"Of course you, don't, Red!", she shouted. "You never do!"

"Well, why don't you tell me then?," he shouted back.

"Because I shouldn't have to!"

"I'm not Abe, Liz. I can't read minds," Red pointed out. "I'll cook (as best as I can), I'll clean (sorta), what else do you want from me, babe?"

"Don't call me babe," she looked at him levelly. "That's not the point, Hellboy. I... I just can't live like this, any more." She motioned with her hands around the small room.

They'd rented a motel room, and it seemed as though for the month that they had lived there, the amount filth (and cats) had just grown exponentially. She'd go live with Abe or Johann, but it was a little difficult to adjust to their lifestyles. Johann lived in what was practically a closet and Abe had bought and renovated out an old community swimming pool a couple blocks down from their motel. The BPRD's pension was only enough to keep them alive and under a roof, so to speak.

"I'm going to go for a while, Red," she stated with certainty in her eyes. "I don't know for how long, and I don't know where, but I just know I can't stay here any longer or I'll go insane."

"Liz, please," Hellboy begged. It wasn't really his thing, but he knew from the look she had, that her decision wouldn't be easily swayed. "You're just all messed up by the hormones. Just stay and think about it for a bit, Liz, please." He gently caressed the almost indistinguishable bulge in her abdomen. "For the babies." His golden eyes pleaded with her to stay.

"Red. I'm sorry, but... I'm going. No matter what you say or do." She bent down to kiss him before grabbing her already packed suitcase, stepping out the door, and slamming it shut, charring the doorknob behind her.

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**I may not post again for a while, so I apologize in advance. Please feel free to review if you have any feedback, and flames will be taken as very... *ahem ahem* violently constructive criticism. **


	2. Chapter 2

**I crammed this chapter in an hour or two. Sorry for any typos, but I'm honestly really tired and don't feel like editing this in the morning, so live with it. Thanks to Peya Luna for being my #1 reviewer. As in the first and the best! (Thought I've heard rumors that second is actually the best, so don't be shy.) And my page is sorta spazzing on me, so this is chapter is going in and out of the system for some reason or other.  
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_I don't see much point in putting a second disclaimer, so whatever the first one said still applies._

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"I don't know, Abe," Liz groaned as she mashed the heels of her palms into her eyes. The lingering scent of age old chlorine was not helping the situation. She was slumped over her knees as she curled up onto an old pool chair. The rubber woven seat was chaffing her calves, so she hugged her knees to get comfortable.

"I just couldn't take it anymore, Blue," she admitted. "It was just so... "

Even if Abe hadn't been a mind-reader, her thoughts would have been clear from the look on her face. He lowered his gills to the water and heaved a large sigh as he shifted his arms on the grainy concrete around his pool. It was a miracle to have found an indoor pool in such a small town, and even though it wasn't large, it was better than Hellboy's fish tank idea.

"He does try his best for you, Liz," Abe pointed out in his I'm-being-the-voice-of-reason tone. "And even if he wasn't, you have to understand the situation." He inwardly cursed himself for ever having handed in his belt. The freedom was nice, but considering the accommodations, he'd take the library and rotten eggs.

"I know, I know," Liz said. "It hasn't been easy for any of us. I just wish that losing everything had some sort of impact on him."

"Well, he is quite dense, Liz. And I mean that in most senses of the word," Abe snickered. "But what I do know is that under all of that... that... stuff," he waved the phrase off with a webbed hand, "he really does care."

"But that's the thing, Abe! It's all of his 'stuff'!," Liz shrieked while tugging at her hair through pale fingers. "It just builds up and multiplies and... and... and it just makes me want to-"

Abe winced and ducked as she stood up and burst into flames. Her blue fire licked the edge of the chair, sending the rancid stench of burnt plastic into the air.

As she cooled down, Abe contemplated the situation. After a few moments of silent thought, he drew up a blank. "I do believe I gave you the Rubik's cube example..."

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John was tired to say the least as he took his first tentative steps on Irish soil. It had taken six stop-overs _after_ a boat ride to just reach Newark Airport, and additional seven hours to reach Ireland but he was finally there. He'd been sitting in the plane so long, he wouldn't've been surprised if his legs had shriveled up and fallen off from lack of use. It was astoundingly difficult to just find a way off of Antarctica, but for the first time in months, he had no worry of returning to his dreaded igloo.

He walked across the line of honking cabs and bustling passengers to see a chauffeur in holding up a sign with his name on it. John gave him a pleasant smile as his driver lugged his single suitcase into the trunk of the discreet black car. Having Manning on his side did have its advantages.

Finally having some leg room, John stretched out against the supple leather upholstery and laid his head against the cool headrest. He reveled in the silence of the car; it was a pleasant change from the howling winds of the barren wasteland he'd been patrolling for the last six months.

John's brow furrowed as he remembered why he was there. How could Hellboy do that? He recalled the day he'd been transferred.

_He woke up one morning to see an envelope at the foot of his door. The crisp edges practically screamed military. He carefully slid his finger under the corner and began prying it open. _

_It's contents didn't seem like anything special; he'd probably be filling out yet another damage of public property form for something Red broke. With that thought, he was very tempted to just crumple up the papers and promptly have a game of paper-basketball. _

_He was half-way in the act of putting it down when something caught his eye. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that it wasn't a damage form at all. It was a notice of transferal for that evening. Panicking, John quickly scanned the document and found his name in bold at the head of the paper. _

_It went on a couple pages about protocol and all of that dribble, but then he found his destination branch. _

John couldn't remember much after that, because he was still shell-shocked by the initial impact. The next clear memory he had was the unbearably loud bellow of foghorns as he boarded the next ship out of some harbor he didn't even remember.

He tried desperately to figure out what he'd done to deserve such a drastic ejection, but found every avenue was a dead end. E-mails weren't an option, seeing as there was no internet on that giant hunk of ice. Conventional letters were sent, but the likelihood of them being recieved before he died was slim indeed. His phone calls were seldom answered by a human operator, but when they were, the most he could get out of them was that his transfer was still indefinite and that his files dated immediately before his move were mysteriously "missing".

In his boredom, John even played some games with the operators to break the monotony. He got some sort of sick satisfaction from trash-talking himself with some of the newer agents over the phone.

His last conversation remained as clear in his mind as the day he'd had it.

_"Do you know that sap Myers," John chuckled as he leaned against the wall and twirled the phone cord around his index finger. "Got himself sent way up here. All I know is I haven't seen him in months. Probably fell into some penguin hole or something." _

_"Oh yeah, I heard about him," the young operator snickered back. He was apparently as bored as John was, judging by his willingness to participate in a conversation with a complete stranger. If Manning caught him chit-chatting on an office line, he'd probably be strung-up like a slab of meat, but his position was so insignificant that he had no fear of reprimand. The Bureau had more important things to do than wonder whow as tying up their phone lines. _

_"Word around here is that he got screwed over by that big red guy; y'know, the walking freakshow," he said absently. John's breath caught as all of it suddenly made sense."I don't even remember hearing what happened, but I know a couple of guys were in the hospital after being 'convinced' to keep him there, the poor guy." The operator reflected on his own account as the silence passed. "Well, it doesn't matter now, at any rate. It's just a shame that that Myers guy is still gone even after that freak quit." _

John sat bolt upright as the car hit a huge pothole. He hadn't even noticed that he'd fallen asleep. "My apologies, sir," the driver said while glancing at him through the rear-view mirror.

Myers just gave him a nod before he rested his head against the window. The gentle rattle of the cool glass soothed his newly blossoming headache. Without looking, he reached to his cup holder for his bottle and took a long gulp of the chilly water.

The Irish countryside now whizzed past his window, an alien view to Antarctica and Newark alike. John's thoughts were hurtled back to the BPRD and his recent meeting with Manning.

Long story short, Manning hadn't authorized his transfer (but apparently didn't cared enough to do anything about it) and now he had to convince Hellboy, Abe, Liz, and some guy named Johann to come back to work again. From what he gathered from the state of the staff, the Bureau was in desperate need of a certain big red ape to come save the day.

_"Of course,"_ John thought. _"They'll all go grovelling to him as soon as some bad guys are too tough for them to handle."_ He clenched his teeth together. Myers hoped- no he _knew _he wouldn't go begging Hellboy to come back; not after what he did.

"Sir," the driver quipped, interrupting his daydreaming. "We're nearing Portstewart." John only now noticed the Irish accent. He'd been thinking so hard that it hadn't even occured to him where he was.

"Thank you," John answered hoarsely. Soon, Hellboy would remember what happened to little "Boyscout", and John would make sure he got exactly what was coming to him.

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**I'm pretty happy with this chapter, and I hope you enjoy it. Please review if you've read this, just so I know that somebody cares... DX. But honestly, I'd really appreciate any reviews, so type away, my readers!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I apologize for the wait. The last few times I tried posting ANYTHING on , I was given the "document did not process" message. I've worked a little bit on this between homework, and I hope you guys like it! I thank everyone who's reviewed my story, and, again, I apologize for the long wait. Please read, review, and enjoy! **

This just wasn't right.

How could a giant, red, horned man-thing walk around with a half fish-half man creature and not be noticed? He had nothing against Abe or Hellboy, but he just assumed it would be much easier to find them, especially considering their, for lack of a better word, distinguishing features. Liz he could understand, since she was the only one who was fully a technical human, but he'd gotten the impression from some of the other agents that Johann wasn't so easy on the eyes either.

The ride from Dublin had been nearly 5 hours, and he began to go a little stir crazy. His driver had dropped him off at an elegant looking building overlooking the coastline. It was situated at the fork of a road. He was to be staying at the York directly in Porstewart. When he got there, he was pleasantly surprised to find that his room was ready upon arrival and wasted no time in dumping his things into his room. As he wheeled in his suitcase, John felt his jaw drop and he gaped at the positively ornate room. It was an alien sight, even _before _his transferral.

For the last two hours, John had been seemingly every where in town, asking whoever he could about his "friends" to no avail. John hadn't so much as a whiff of kitty litter or rotten eggs. It had seemed as though they'd just dropped off the map, most probably the work of Abe and Liz.

He was about ready to call it a day and hole up in the hotel by the time the sun was setting. On his way back towards the York, he saw a small coffee shop and decided to grab a cup.

Inside he grabbed a rather large coffee and sat next to the window. The glass on the pane was fogged, so the cashier, who obviously had nothing better to do on this slow night, cracked it open a bit to clear the fog. The air in the shop had the sour-sweet smell of different pastries and breads baking, and as it met the crisp ocean-licked air, John had the inkling that this was what the "beach-house" scented candles were trying to capture.

The scent of cinnamon and sea salt was haunting his nostrils when he noticed a figure striding down the street. He could almost feel his eyes dilate while he moved to get a glare-free angle through the window. The long-black hair of a woman whipped about as it was buffeted by the brisk sea breeze. The woman came closer and John noticed something familiar about her gait and the shape of her face.

He placed his coffee down and quickly jumped out of the door as the figure neared. After the moment it took for his eyes to adjust to the light, John's breath caught. Over 3000 miles away from where they'd last met, John stood face to face with Elizabeth Sherman.

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The moment dragged on like an eternity as they both stood as enemies in a stalemate.

Liz regained her composure and found her voice. "J-John? John, is that you?"

John could hardly believe how time had treated her. The worry lines on her face had become much clearer than before, and her clothes were threadbare, making her seem at least 10 years older. Back in Newark, the Liz he knew was also considerably slimmer than the one standing before him.

"Yes..."

Without another word, they approached each other and shared a long embrace. Though neither of them were telepathic, thoughts and words flowed through their touch faster than any of them could be coherently spoken. Eventually they broke their hug and just looked at one another.

"So how are you?," asked John. He knew just from looking that there had to be something wrong. A precursory analysis of her face showed from her puffy eyes and red nose that she'd be crying recently and the scent of fire hung over her like a veil.

"I've been better," she admitted. "I'm not sure that we can keep going, Myers. I don't know if you've noticed, but things aren't as great as we imagined they would be when we left." She spread her arms and looked around herself as if inviting him to insult her appearance.

John only nodded in agreement. Moving onto a different topic, John asked, "How're Abe and this Johan guy?"

"They're fine." Liz knew from looks alone that John had found out about Hellboy's involvment in his transfer, and the fact that he purposely avoided talking about him up to that point only confirmed it.

"And... Hellboy? How's he?"

Liz's brow furrowed in concern as the air grew tense. John's tone was much lower, and at the same time, menacing. His intensity could almost be felt like one of Liz's heatwaves as it rolled across a room.

"As good as he'll ever be, I suppose," Liz said. John's curt nod served to place her off the hook. John totally forgot about his coffee and just walked with Liz in the direction of his hotel.

"I'm staying in the York, do you want to room with me? We could talk about... things."

Liz smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time. "Y'know, for a schmuck, you really do have excellent timing."

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**Thank you guys so much for reading, and I'll try and get the next chapter up as soon as possible. It may take a while though, since SAT's and whatnot aren't far away. **


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